


Changing the Captor

by orphan_account



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bed Sex, Captivity, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Knotting, Maledom/Femsub, Master/Pet, Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rescue, Sexual Slavery, Simultaneous Orgasm, Size Difference, Slavery, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28593357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Isla Starmane gets freaky with her savior.Warning: Heavy Smut, Master/Pet; Dubious Consent
Relationships: Female Night Elf | Elves/Male Worgen (Warcraft)
Kudos: 11





	Changing the Captor

Isla Starmane was really in trouble now.  
She'd given up hope of survival a few days ago. The Blood Elves who had her had made sure of that. Sin'dorei, especially those who served the Burning Legion, were never kind to Kaldorei prisoners, and Isla's treatment had been no different. To tell the truth, giving up to the torture was a kind of release. Once she accepted that she was going to die, the idea of escaping the pain was somewhat appealing. She'd return to the Nature from which all life was formed and be among spirits of her ancestors once more. Death wasn't such a bad idea.  
When the succubus who had been charged with her "care" figured out why her captive could still smile, though, she'd discovered that there were worse things than death. Losing her soul, for instance, becoming a pawn, aware but without will…  
Which was what she was doing right now. Or rather, what was being done to her. Naked, blindfolded, bound and hanging by her arms (but not gagged, oh no, the screams should flow unhindered), she'd discovered there was still something left to fear after all.  
She'd caught a peek of the device before she'd been blindfolded. A whip of fel-green energy – she could feel it pulling at her, and it hadn't even touched her yet. And when it did, she had indeed screamed. Even the worst of the blood elven tortures had not invoked the sheer agony she felt.  
Every lash of the whip sapped a little of her soul in a tiny, ragged draw, and it felt like every nerve of her body had been set alight. Oh, she screamed alright. And it seemed like the process was going to be … lengthy.  
By the fifth lash, Isla was nearly mindless with the agony. So it took her a few moments to clue in to the fact that a sixth lash hadn't landed, and that there were sounds of some kind of battle going on outside of the torture chamber.  
"Oh, someone's going to bleed for this interruption!" the succubus snapped. Through her ragged  
breaths, Isla heard the click of the succubus's hooves as someone walked towards the door. Before  
she had a chance to reach it, though, there was a thunderous sound – the door shattering. Isla could hear the Blood Elf Warlock's and her succubus's enraged snarl, and a man's voice shouting out a deafening battle-roar. She heard the familiar crackling sound of a shock, and felt the temperature in the room drop by a few degrees. The succubus gasped, and then screamed, a scream which was cut off short by another sound. This one combined the meaty crunch of flesh and bone with the crash of thunder and the smell of burned meat and ozone. Another druid, then. It seemed she was not going to lose her soul today after all.  
She heard steps getting closer, heavier than her own, or the succubus's. The steps stopped before  
they got to her, as though the other druid had paused to think.  
"Free me, I beg of you! Or kill me, I don't care – do something, if I stay here I lose my soul!" she shouted Darnassian words desperately to her unknown saviour.  
The other druid stayed still for a moment, then she heard the steps resume towards her. She heard the unsheathing of a knife or dagger, and she willed herself not to flinch at the end. She'd be with the spirits now…  
But there was no burning line of fire across her throat. Instead, a rough arm hoisted her up, and she heard the shearing of the rope holding her up. She was slung, still bound and blindfolded, over a rough-spauldered shoulder. Then her world spun, and she lost consciousness before she could ask the name of the Kaldorei druid who saved her.  
The first thing Isla became aware of when she became conscious was the complete and utter lack of pain. It had been at least a month since she had last been completely pain-free, and it felt novel, and wonderful. The second thing she became aware of was the fact that she was warm, and that she was lying on her side on something soft. She smelled the smoke of a fire, and felt the waves of heat on her skin. That was when she realized she was still naked, still bound, and still blindfolded.  
"What – huh?" she gasped, and started to struggle, still weak from the fel-whip's draining effects.  
She heard movement from nearby, and then a hand gripped her shoulder. She flinched, and froze, the memories of her month of torture overcoming her for a moment. But no blows followed, no pain blossomed anew.  
"Whoever you are, I really appreciate your rescuing me, you have no idea how bad things were in there, but please, would you untie me?" she asked.  
"I don't understand that. Do you speak Common?" a deep voice asked her. Or at least she thought that's what he said, she knew a little Common, but she was by no means fluent. A dread realization started to overcome her – what if her "rescuer" was from the Horde? But no… she'd heard steeps…  
"Please, take rope off?" she asked in halting Common. She could hear the other moving, the sound of the knife leaving the sheath again, and then he grabbed her head. She froze, but all that was cut was the knot of the blindfold. As it fell away, she blinked, and then gasped as the reality of her "rescuer" hit home.  
He had the golden-yellow eyes, that looked back at her, set within a wolf-like face. He was gray-dark furred, like wolves she encountered throughout Azeroth. Oh shit, a Worgen. How could she be so stupid to assume that her rescuer was Kaldorei like herself?  
He said something to her, of which she only understood "leave rope for now", and "what should I do with you", and sat back down, crossing his arms as he looked at her. Isla eyed him uncertainly.  
Like most males of his species, he was big. He was also well armored in fine quality mail, and armed with a massive, two handed hammer. He had to be skilled to have made into, and out of, the Firewing Point alive.  
She felt a bit of fear then, and realized that she didn't want to die after all. "Please no kill?" she whispered, "Take to Cenarion Refuge?" Hope had returned it seemed…  
Worgen looked thoughtful for a moment, then responded in pidgin Darnassian. Isla realized he was trying to make himself easier to understand. "Not heal and then kill. Not…" he spoke a term in another language, but the way he said it indicated distaste. "Cenarion Refuge gives gold for night elf druid woman? How much? Kaldorei woman-" another unknown word, this time Dwarvish. She thought he was asking about her value.  
At that point she broke down crying. "I worth no gold," she said in a tiny voice. She had no family, and Cenarion Refuge had no resources to spare, her druidic companions died in mana-bombing of their camp in Thicket. They'd be grateful to have her back alive, but there was no way they would give any gold for her return. She was unskilled enough that her loss would hurt less than the financial blow. Once again she regretted coming through the portal so soon.  
He grabbed her ears and gently turned her head so that her eyes met his, and gave her a long, thoughtful look. Then he said something that made her tremble.  
"Then I have a new toy."  
She whimpered.  
"No worry, little Elf girl. I will be gentle first time." Worgen's bestial mouth curved in a wide grin.  
He stood up then, and scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder. She struggled, but the succubus's bonds held, and she was still weak. She tried to kick, but between the well-made mail and the fact that her legs were still tied together, she found no purchase. She tried to reach for her druidic powers to call the powers of Nature to rescue her, and gasped as she realized her magical energy was nearly gone. All she could manage was a faint spark from her fingertips. What had that fel-whip done to her?  
Worgen carried her for a short distance, then put her down gently beside a boulder, which he proceeded to drape a thick bedroll over. Before she could figure out what the heck he was doing, he lifted her up again and pushed her over the boulder, with her ass in the air and her hands and head sprawled over the downhill side. Oh. Padding. Small comforts, she thought, and tried not to tense up. She knew from her experiences. But Worgen was also bigger than the Kael'thas' troops who had raped her. Safe to assume his cock was too. She steeled herself for what was to come.  
And jumped in surprise at the feel of a firm slap across her ass.  
"Pretty elven butt," said the Worgen.  
What the fuck? She thought. Is he going to get this over with, or what? The thought distracted her for a moment, enough to make her jump again when she felt something brush between her legs and against her cleft. She tried to freeze again, tried to force herself to relax for the inevitable penetration. She realized suddenly that it was a finger, and it probed her shallowly and gently for a moment before withdrawing.  
"Not wet yet," said Worgen. Again, she was gripped with a sense of confusion. What kind of rapist gave a rat's ass about whether his victim was ready for it? Was he expecting her to eagerly await this?  
She felt him cut the ropes binding her knees together, but he left the ones binding her feet. He pushed her knees apart, using the boulder as leverage, and she struggled for a moment. She felt him keep one hand on her ankles, holding her legs apart. She felt his warm breath on her bare ass, and then was shocked to feel his tongue snaking its way between her legs. She gasped, and squirmed.  
His tongue was warm and moist, and a little rough. The gasp turned into an involuntary moan as he licked her clit. As promised, he was gentle. Gentle enough that despite herself, she felt a shiver of pleasure. His tongue was warm and moist, and a little rough. The gasp turned into an involuntary moan as he licked her clit. As promised, he was gentle. Gentle enough that despite herself, she felt a shiver of pleasure."Mmm, good" said Worgen, between licks. Isla stopped trying to kick, but couldn't help squirming and gasping. Obviously this guy had practice, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. He pushed her legs farther apart, allowing greater access to her pussy. As his tongue made circles around her clit, he slid a thick finger into her. She couldn't help herself. Moaning, she leveraged herself against the boulder as much as she could and pushed back against him. She felt him pull back a little, and a forlorn whimper escaped her lips. against the boulder as much as she could and pushed back against him. Obligingly, he moved his finger in and out slowly, never stopping his licking.  
The pressure was building inside her, the first true pleasure she'd felt at all in well over a month.  
Perhaps it was Worgen's skill, perhaps it was the simple urge of life after being so close to death, but she was raging with desire. Just before she was about to come, however, Worgen withdrew his tongue and hands, and stepped back from her.  
"Nooo don't stop…" she panted. It didn't seem to matter, Worgen caught the meaning anyway. She heard him laugh, and then heard the clanking sound of mail being removed.  
"Now you're ready, and so am I." he said. She felt his hands on her ass, positioning her for better access. Then she felt the hot, hard press of his cock against her mound. How big was he? She couldn't see. Kaldorei were among the tall races in the Alliance, but the Worgen were bigger still.  
It seemed she wasn't going to find out right away, for Worgen was not done playing with his new toy. He lifted her hindquarters up slightly, rubbing himself against her. She felt him rub his veined shaft up between the lips of her pussy, the ridge where the head began tormenting her clit. She moaned, trying to match his movements. The rope tying her ankles made it difficult for her to do much. She was truly at his mercy.  
Worgen, noticing her efforts, chuckled, "good Elf." He varied his teasing, sometimes pulling away until she couldn't feel him, making her wonder where he was going to show up next, sometimes rubbing the tip at the entrance. Her own juices were making him slicker and slicker, and she felt like she was on fire. She was panting, her breaths coming in high pitched gasps.  
"Do you want it?" Worgen asked, pressing the head of his knot between her lips.  
"Yes, by Elune, yes!" she shouted.  
She felt him pull back a little, and a forlorn whimper escaped her lips.  
"Do you want it?" he asked again, a little more insistently.  
"Yes, yes, do it!" she shouted again, this time in Common. With a grunt, he plunged his burning knotted cock deep inside her. A wordless cry of pleasure escaped her. He was indeed larger than Kaldorei men, large enough for her to feel the difference, but he'd prepared her well enough that there was no pain. "Oh Ancients," she moaned.  
He lifted her rear again, his hands around her hips, and started to thrust. Each push brought a gasp from her. The force of his thrusts pushed her forward on the bedroll; her breasts were pressed roughly against the fabric. The sensation only added to the pleasure. Her moans were becoming louder, matched by his grunts.  
She was close, very close, to coming. She arched her back and brought her knees closer together, squeezing him, and was rewarded with his gasp and momentary pause. Then he renewed his grip on her hips and pulled back onto himself, harder and deeper than she thought possible. Screaming, she came. He shoved into her hard twice, and she felt the pulse of his own orgasm, his hot come gushing inside her. She gasped for breath, hearing his own harsh breathing echoing hers.  
"Not bad for a Elf," he said, and pulled out. She felt his come trickle down her legs.  
"Not bad for a Worgen," she replied, satisfied. No, not bad at all, and definitely better than losing my soul to the Burning Legion lackeys. All in all, there are worse fates than being a Worgen's pet, especially this Worgen.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Leave Kudos.


End file.
